


fine

by sarahyyy



Series: the final frontier [3]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Trek Fusion, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, M/M, Marriage, Misunderstandings, Vulcan Culture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-04 22:01:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5350037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahyyy/pseuds/sarahyyy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So what you’re saying is that you...” He runs Enjolras’ words through his head again, and hopes that he hasn’t misunderstood anything Enjolras has just been telling him. He cannot keep the incredulity out of his voice when he continues, “Vulcan-married me?”</p><p>The corner of Enjolras’ lips tighten. “Affirmative,” Enjolras confirms. “Although, that was not how I phrased it, Lieutenant.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	fine

“So what you’re saying is that you…” He runs Enjolras’ words through his head again, and hopes that he hasn’t misunderstood anything Enjolras has just been telling him. He cannot keep the incredulity out of his voice when he continues, “Vulcan-married me?”

The corner of Enjolras’ lips tighten. “Affirmative,” Enjolras confirms. “Although, that was not how I phrased it, Lieutenant.”

Grantaire blinks at the use of _Lieutenant_ , because Enjolras doesn’t call him that in private anymore, doesn’t unless he’s uncomfortable or angry. 

Grantaire bristles at the thought. He’s just come out of a three day long anything-goes sex marathon with Enjolras to find that they apparently have a _marriage bond_ between them now; if anyone should feel uncomfortable, it should definitely be _him_. But the more Grantaire looks at Enjolras, the more he can pick out the signs that Enjolras is displeased by the situation, and the thought of Enjolras being stuck in a marriage to him against Enjolras’ will just because Enjolras’ biology dictates him to is a jarring one.

His chest feels tight, his breath doesn’t come easy.

“You are in distress,” Enjolras observes, cutting through his thoughts. He’s reaching across the bed for Grantaire, and Grantaire can feel Enjolras’ concern for him like it’s something tangible at the back of his mind. 

Grantaire’s gaze snaps up to Enjolras’. “Can you undo the bond?” he asks, forcing the words out, even though it feels wrong to even _think_ about it. 

Enjolras stiffens, drawing back. “I cannot,” he says after a short pause. “But there will be mind healers on Vulcan who will be able to assist in such an endeavour.”

Grantaire breathes out in relief. “It’s not irreversible? You told me it was permanent.”

“The bond itself is not reversible,” Enjolras tells him tightly. “It will have to be severed.”

“But it can be done?” Grantaire asks.

Enjolras nods. 

“Okay,” Grantaire says. “Then we’ll do just that.” 

Enjolras nods again. “I have, prior to your awakening, instructed Lieutenant Fauchelevent to direct our course to New Vulcan,” he tells Grantaire. “By my estimation, we will arrive in the next three point two nine days.” 

Grantaire tries to reason to himself that he isn’t hurt by the fact that they’re already on their way to Vulcan. He knows that Enjolras doesn’t want the bond between them, and that Enjolras would’ve wanted to get this over and done with as soon as possible — waiting for Grantaire to wake up to tell him that he’s basically divorcing him before directing the ship to Vulcan would’ve been a waste of time, and therefore illogical. 

“In the meantime, I would recommend that you report to sickbay to have your injuries treated,” Enjolras continues, and he’s not even looking at Grantaire now, attention turned to the PADD he’s picked up. “Your assistance in the events that have occurred the past few days has been valuable. I trust you will remain discreet about what transpired between us.”

Grantaire swallows. So that’s it, then. It doesn’t sound like they’re just getting this marriage bond this severed, it sounds like Enjolras doesn’t want to have anything to do with him anymore.

Six months in a relationship with Enjolras, and all he has to show for are the bruises on his body and a broken heart. 

Of course that’s what he gets.

—

Grantaire doesn’t go to sickbay. 

He hasn’t suffered any injuries that a simple dermal regenerator can’t heal, and he’s got one of those in his quarters. He doesn’t think he can bear to be around Joly, Bossuet, and Musichetta today, doesn’t think he can watch them flirt and be happy together.

Instead, he goes back to his room, and sends a comm to Marius, asking for any information he has on psychic shielding.

He spends the night with his emergency vodka stash, learning how to build mental doors in his mind to block Enjolras out, the way Enjolras has no doubt done to block him out too. It is only logical, after all.

—

He wakes up to Musichetta jabbing a hypospray to his neck. 

“Fucking Christ,” Grantaire bites out.

“That should sober you up,” she tells him, scowling. “You have three minutes to shower and change.”

“I don’t have a shift today,” Grantaire tells her, and throws his blanket over his face. He knows Musichetta probably has his best intentions at heart, but he thinks he’s allowed to mope about his upending divorce for at least a day. “Please just let me stay here until I die.”

“Three minutes, R,” Musichetta repeats, tugging his covers away from him. “And then you’re coming with me to sickbay.”

“I’m not hurt,” he tells her, and then winces when he remembers that he didn’t actually get to use the dermal regenerator on himself last night. “It looks bad, but they’re not so bad. They’re sex bruises.” He waggles his eyebrows at Musichetta.

“Grantaire,” Musichetta says slowly, patiently. “Enjolras is in sickbay with a migraine, and not on the bridge. Do you know how many times Enjolras has voluntarily called in sick? Not once in the two and a half years I’ve been working on the USS Musain. Do you know how often Vulcans are affected by migraines? Almost never, because of their ability to block out pain. Do you know what this tells us? That it must be one hell of a migraine.” Her face softens at the look of worry on Grantaire’s face, and she gently tugs him out of bed to herd him into the shower. “All of Joly’s scans have come up clean, so Joly’s concluded that it’s a Vulcan mind thing. And since Enjolras won’t tell us what’s going on, or how we can help him, even though it’s kind of glaringly obvious that he knows what is going on, I figure that there was only one thing I can do for him to make him feel better, and that is to get his boyfriend to sickbay to comfort him. So, again, you have three minutes to shower and change.”

Grantaire does as Musichetta says.

—

Enjolras opens his eyes just as Grantaire walks into the isolation ward, and he frowns. 

“You did not seek treatment for your injuries, as I requested you to,” he says, and Grantaire’s heart lurches in his chest, because Enjolras sounds tired, sounds like he’s having trouble just getting the words out. “You should have your injuries attended to.”

“Enjolras,” Grantaire says, alarmed when Enjolras attempts to sit up. 

“I will bring Doctor Joly to you,” Enjolras says. 

“Enjolras, please, will you just lie back down?” Grantaire asks, and presses a hand to Enjolras’ chest to push him back down onto the bed, brushing the back of his knuckles over Enjolras’ jaw when Enjolras complies. 

Enjolras lets out a noise at the contact, one of contentment, of relief, and Grantaire keeps his hand there, gently stroking Enjolras’ jaw. 

“I do not enjoy seeing you hurt, _ashayam_ ,” he tells Grantaire, eyelids drifting shut for just a moment. “I know that apologies are illogical, but-”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Grantaire tells him, still reeling from hearing Enjolras call him _ashayam_. Beloved. Musichetta said that nothing Joly gave Enjolras for the pain had any effect on him, but clearly that’s not true. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me, I know you couldn’t control your actions.”

“I knew that my Time was upon me,” Enjolras says. “I knew, but I thought that I had more control over myself. I did not mean to put you in danger. I should not have let you into my quarters that night.”

“I didn’t mind it,” Grantaire assures him, because Enjolras’ guilt is misplaced. 

“You do not have to lie to spare my feelings,” Enjolras says. “Your actions have proven otherwise.”

“My…actions?”

Enjolras reaches out and brushes his fingers lightly over Grantaire’s meld points. “I cannot feel you,” he says quietly, almost sadly.

Grantaire’s lips part in surprise. A thought comes to him.

“Enjolras, is that what’s causing you pain now?” he asks, and he knows the answer even before Enjolras gives it to him. He thinks back of the door he’s built up in his mind, and imagines opening it, hoping that it’ll be enough to rid Enjolras of his pain. He knows when Enjolras lets out a long exhale that it’s worked. “I didn’t mean to- I had quite a bit to drink last night, and I… I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Enjolras shakes his head. “It is of no consequence.”

“You were in _pain_ , Enjolras, of course that is of consequence,” Grantaire snaps. He feels sick at the thought of causing Enjolras so much discomfort; it was never his intention to. And then, because the question is nagging at the back of his brain, “Will there be pain for you, when we sever the bond?”

Enjolras looks away from him. “One of incomparable measures,” he says hoarsely. 

“Fuck,” Grantaire curses. “We can’t do it.”

“I will not tie you down with a marriage you want no part of, Grantaire,” Enjolras tells him forcefully. “I would rather hurt than to have you be miserable.”

“I never said that I didn’t want this,” Grantaire offers quietly, and it’s true. “I know the situation isn’t ideal, but if you’re willing to put up with me, then I am okay with the bond. I won’t be miserable, I’ll be fine.”

“ _’Fine’_ has variable definitions, _’fine’_ is unacceptable,” Enjolras says, adamant. “I do not want you _’fine’_ , I do not wish for you to have to settle for me just because of the bond.”

Grantaire’s eyes widen. “ _Settle_ for you?” he echoes. Things start to piece together in his mind. “Enjolras, are you displeased with the bond?”

“Only in that it has caused you so much unwarranted distress,” Enjolras tells him. 

Grantaire’s heart is beating double its rate, because Enjolras isn’t lying to him. Vulcans don’t lie, there is no logic in that. “And you… _want_ to be bonded to me?”

Enjolras’ eyes are soft when he says, “Why would I not want to be? I have always thought that when my Time came, I would have to resign myself to being bonded by the Elders to someone who was foreign to me.” He reaches out to tentatively take Grantaire’s hand in his, and when Grantaire doesn’t immediately jerk away, Enjolras lets his lips curl in a barely there smile. “I _chose_ to embark upon a romantic relationship with you, Grantaire, and I was gratified to find myself bonded to you. My respect and regard for you is unparalleled.”

That sounded almost like _I love you_ , coming from Enjolras.

“That is not an inaccurate inference,” Enjolras tells him softly.

“But you… You set course for Vulcan even before we decided to sever the bond,” Grantaire points out.

“At that time, my concern was for your mind,” Enjolras explains. “I ordered the change of course because I found that I needed to be reassured by a Vulcan mind healer that our melds during pon farr caused you no lasting damage in your mind.”

“You never planned to sever the bond,” Grantaire breathes.

“Affirmative,” Enjolras says. And then, “I had no such intentions until you expressed displeasure at being bonded to me.”

“That wasn’t it!” Grantaire says quickly. “I just. I thought you didn’t want to be bonded to me. I didn’t want you to be married to me because you _had_ to be.”

“It seems that we have miscommunicated our thoughts on the matter,” Enjolras says. “Do you still wish to sever our bond?”

Grantaire shakes his head. And then, just to make sure that he’s being the clearest he can be, says, “No, I do not wish to sever our bond.”

Enjolras brushes the tips of his index and middle fingers over Grantaire’s in a Vulcan kiss. “That would be most satisfactory.”

Grantaire nods, and then climbs up onto the biobed, curling himself around Enjolras. “You should know that I love you too,” he tells Enjolras. 

“I must confess I find it pleasing to hear you say it,” Enjolras admits, brushing his lips over Grantaire’s temple.

Grantaire hums. “Then I shall keep saying it,” he promises Enjolras.

**Author's Note:**

> Five asks in my inbox asking for a pon farr fic, but I still copped out and went with a post-pon farr fic because smut is hard, friends.
> 
> As usual, I'm [here on Tumblr](http://sarah-yyy.tumblr.com), come say hi! :)
> 
> ETA: Any bonus headcanons will be in [in this tag](http://sarah.tumblr.com/tagged/uss-musain-verse).


End file.
